Tits or Treat

Warning: Anime References

-

Carved pumpkins, burning bright orange leaves, the smell of sugar fills the air. Spooky stories whispered illuminated by a flashlight under the chin. Strange creatures wander the streets and the festive spirit is at an all-time high...

Unless you are fucking degenerate that is.

The University town of Greenville was buzzing with excitement about the approaching "End of days". Every Halloween turned this peaceful, dedicated to the pursuit of deep knowledge, place into complete pandemonium. It was the time for sorority and fraternity initiations and the creativity behind them was surprisingly mundane but also extremely destructive, since it revolved around humiliation, stupidity, and a lot of substance abuse.

Alpha Phi Alpha Sigma took center stage in front of the gates O-M-Chi Omega. The house resembled the aftermath of a bomb exploding in a very expensive Barbie's vagina. The illegal amount of pink and curtains created a visual sore spot. If a bunch of idiots ran around and tossed toilet paper on it, it would not only not hurt the overall vibe but improve it. Which the guys from Alpha Phi Alpha Sigma did of course. But they were considered enough to use colored paper.

Garet knocked on the door by tossing a trash can at it. The entrance revealed three clones, or strong, female individuals if you asked their moms, who in the same high-pitched tone screeched 'Tits or treat!'

As this place was renowned for its culture and history, the bimbos wore white robes, with edges barely concealing their babymaking organs. All three wore sandals with straps up to their knees and more material was used for the shoes than for the upper body coverage. Cleavages ran deep and the alcohol spilling between the massive bosoms promised fun times. No charge required!

But Garet was a man of substance. 'Treat!' the scoundrel said and bottles froze in the air. Those bottles were held by thin fingers ending in long pointy multi-colored manicures, an aesthetic choice clashing with the all-pure-ancient-greek-goddess look the ladies were going for.

Behind them, a mass of mainstream approved attractive young women, also wearing white robes, forgot to breathe. None had dared to refuse the tits fountain.

The middle one in the front, the leader, the one whose yellow hair stretched like a skyscraper on her bright brow, winked and turned around. With a practiced move, she grabbed the edges of her skirt and revealed her thong-clad buttocks. She slapped the meat with an appealing audible sound and laughter erupted in the house. The other two girls awarded the naked cheeks the same way and poured sparkling liquid across the shiny skin.

Garet jumped at the opportunity and slid right underneath the formed waterfall. A wide open mouth and thirsty tongue didn't satisfy with just a taste from the falling drops. His face dug deep into the flesh. His nose pushed the thin strip of clothing deep in the ass crack and the sides of a bleached anus rested on his nostrils.

The man was gentlemen of old and didn't sour the goods with his filthy man hands. Only his most delicate features basked on the woman's offering. And as a such scholar of refined taste and behavior, he wouldn't let a gift be left unreturned.

He stood up and his booming voice crushed poor notes into an epic ballad.

'I'm gonna rub my dick for you

and there is nothing you can do.

You can scream about it,

you can dream about it,

but the cock is coming through!'

In the second line, more voices joined and a choir echoed through the neighborhood. Impressive feat considering the mayhem around.

They came from the bushes. All dressed like centurions. All looked like fitness models in their thirties failing to pass for 19-year old, barely out of their teen phase boys. Massive square-jawed motherfuckers, carrying shields, displaying all the mothers they had fucked.

A lot of similar faces filled the photo collages.

***

He waited for them to finish. They had other houses to attend to. And most of the others had already passed. The girls from O-M-Chi Omega looked disappointed. Those were the alphas, the sexy men the law demanded pretty girls like them to bone. But how could the young women know a lot of wives had husbands taking kids trick-or-treating and now those milfs chilled alone in their houses?

The door closed and through the shadows. He waited for some time, hidden behind the trashcan that was used to knock on the door several paragraphs above. How the guys missed him was a mystery but he was thankful for it.

The moment of action was upon him. The sounds of violent celebration moved away. The street was entering a quieter phase. The perfect opportunity for him to move.

He snuck onto the porch!

James was your typical nerd. An everyday normal guy you just miss in the crowd. Standing at a mere 6 foot 3, with wide strong shoulders and the physique of a god, held up by strong muscular thighs. He had a chin that could break coconuts, but he wore stupid round glasses and his haircut was kind of lame, being all short and generic, so women were not interested and guys didn't want to play with him.

He knocked and giggles came from the other side of the door. Smiles turned to frowns after the gate swung open. The same three girls, with bottles ready to be spilled, lost all their appetite for shenanigans. James noticed another girl at their feet, with a bucket, ready to gather the alcohol. It surprised him to see someone as invisible in the midst of O-M-Chi Omega sorority.

Instead of an offering of silicon delight, he was met with 'Whatcha want?'.

'It's Halloween,' he began with no clear goal where he was going.

'It is and what are you supposed to be? Nerd dressing like a dork is not much a costume,' the middle girl said and the house exploded with laughter.

'I just wanted...'

'Some of these I bet,' she leaned forward squshing her generous cleavage, letting her tongue go wild around her lips and making annoying spitty sounds like she was chewing gum in the most obnoxious way. 'Well, too bad!' She turned and grabbed the heads of the other two at her sides.

Whispering, glances behind her shoulder, laughter. All things to make any man scared for his safety.

'Unless,' she turned back to face him and winked.

Several arms extended from the doorframe and dragged the poor chap inside. The door slammed shut.

'Oh, no,' a token black character stood at the other side of the street, hiding behind yet another trashcan. 'This is bad!' he said and ran to never be seen again.

He dropped a foreshadowing picture. The illustration presented a laughing woman. A peculiar choice of facial expression, considering she was tied to a wooden pillar and a fiery inferno surrounded her. On top of the striking tableau, someone very carefully had positioned a pentagram with ancient writing around the points. And on top of that, someone in a hurry had placed a red line, striking the image from corner to corner.

***

'Look what we have here, girls!' The queen of this hell sorority hive tested her vocal strength. It was substantial. 'A silly little boy playing at a man's game.'

His body was tossed at the center. Stairs surrounded his demise and everywhere he looked white, blonde women stared at him. Numerous, all strikingly similar, like they were all made in a factory, made it impossible for him to concentrate on one face. With hunger and fire in their eyes, they moved around.

He lost focus and his glasses getting foggier with each laborious breath he took did nothing to improve his situation.

'You don't understand,' he struggled to both speak and stand up but both actions were forbidden. A sandal materialized and stomped on his chest. The foot of the girl caved in a bit, landing in the solid crevice between his massive pecks but nobody has time to notice stuff like that.

'His voice grates on me, gag him!' The queen commanded.

Confusion fell upon her underlings. Despite the excessive amount of decoration around, there was not an obvious way to shut his mouth. One of them just shrugged and reached underneath her skirt. Her fingers dragged a pair of green thongs down her straight legs and a sliver of minge blossomed in front of him.

He knew this was not a good sign. She knelt down and pushed her underwear so hard down his throat that his stomach got involved. Tears wet his sides as he was fighting the brutal gagging reflex threatening to share his lunch with his captors. She was so disinterested in his well-being that her fingers scraped against the roof of his mouth and it felt like she sliced the meat with daggers.

His muffled screams and pleas did nothing to alleviate his suffering. If anything it made it worse. They enjoyed seeing him squirm like a worm and as they said: 'The night is young. Stanly, or whatever the hell your name is, lock the door!'

The invisible girl, with tied black hair in a prickly bun and glasses bigger than her face, obeyed the order.

'We have plans for you,' the blonde bitch's eyes got comically big and seemed to eat the light around.

His world got darker and only her devilish eyes left a mark on his mind.

***

But he didn't wake from the nightmare. He was still there. Inside their house, lost to the world, and the vicious hungry eyes of crazy women bore right into his soul.

They didn't give him the time to think.

'Grils,' their leader began, 'you know what to do!'

They didn't rush as he feared. But at the same time, they didn't waste a prospect for a good time with suspense. They gathered closer and his surroundings were blocked by a forest of shiny, toned, really oily legs. Some wore sandals, others were already barefoot and despite what momma told him he looked up.

'You trying to peek under my skirt I wonder?' one of the girls laughed.

And she obliged, she pulled her white dress just a bit to allow for better exposure of her underwear.

'I count that as consent,' another concluded, and while his attention was occupied by the thin strap barely covering half a labia lip let alone the whole vulva her hands reached down and tore his shirt.

To say a Men's Health jacked-up fitness model would be jealous of this nerd's physique would be an understatement. A fact even the girls could not pretend to ignore any longer. He didn't let them comment on it though. He pushed her arms away, not as gently as he could have. He pulled the g-string from his throat and coughed. Spraying spit on their toes after pushing them away was not his best move.

'Oh, what a brute,' she exclaimed and took a step back, a deliberate and somewhat painful one, as she let her heel scrape across his leg, she thought about visiting his balls but that was an activity for later in the evening.

'I am sorry,' he collected himself and went onto his knees, still coughing and with watery eyes. 'But I don't know your name. Or your star sign. I am libra by the way.'

'Don't worry, darling,' someone else whispered in his ear. This one was behind him and without him realizing she managed to pull down the sleeves and exposed his torso completely. 'I am Leo,' and her tongue pricked his neck.

He couldn't concentrate. The mass of women lost all individual characteristics. He was not aware of who was now behind him or who was the one who hurt him. It was all hair, long legs, and tiaras, white dresses, and the scent of sweet wine.

The bodies around him oozed with sweat and alcoholic breath as well. It was intoxicating to a point of nausea. Fingers tapped on his naked body and warm palms left pulsating marks on his skin. The collective body heat turned the room into a sauna and fog grayed out his glasses further.

Wait... naked?

He looked down. Could only see her eyes. The rest was blurry. Removed his glasses and the room boomed with a surprised gasp.

'What a man!' he heard.

But in a moment of clarity, he smeared his finger on the glass and put them back on. He observed what was happening. He stood straight and a woman at his feet cupped his balls. He had nothing on except his socks, which made him feel more naked which should not have been possible but here we are.

More and more featureless clones joined in. They caressed his ass and thighs, his back became their battleground, and his chest received way too many kisses. Someone took his glasses away altogether and the world became a whirl of orange, pink, and white.

There was nowhere to move, the body pile around him had him locked in position.

'Why is this still not moving,' a slap came across his flaccid member. Like a pendulum, the massive thing swung and the head of it hit someone in the face. A wet slap echoed in the room and laughter ensued.

'A big boy who doesn't know how to use it?'

He knew this voice.

The leader.

'Let me have a look, ladies.'

Something akin to fresh air took place in front of him as the women departed but as soon as he could feel the leader's breath on his neck the heat wave hit will full force, making his already wet brow send the cavalry. Waterfalls streamed down his face as she let her tongue explore the crevices between his pecks.

She was blurry and more shapely. Also, her form has lost something. She was single color from head to toe. A soft flesh pressed against his hanging member. Her naked ass cheeks grabbed his shaft and plaid with it. Between her buns, the small little asshole nicely poked him. She navigated his arms right over her erect nipples poking through her bra, yet he didn't return the favor.

'Are you gay by any chance?' She asked quietly.

'No, I love women.'

'We'll see. Take him, girls!' She commanded and they forced him down the hallway.

Inside the house was even hotter and his vision was even weaker. But when a door opened the cool air mixed with the smell of old alcohol and forgotten laundry send warning signals in his head.

'Stairs,' one of the underlings informed him.

'Shut up Macy and lead the way,' the leader said to her.

'My name is Stacy,' the girl mumbled.

'What did you say?'

'Nothing, nothing,' she quickly defended with real fear in her voice.

She didn't dare move until prompt again.

'Move your ass!' was the command and she did. 'And bring his glasses, don't want this lumber falling down on us.'

The sound of her bare feet slapping against cold cement reached his ears. They dragged him down to a cellar. Surrounded by so many soft bodies there was no danger of him stumbling. Falling down here was impossible and if by some random chance of fate this happened he had a lot of cushioning available.

Only the footsteps of the flesh amalgamation echoed as they descended in foreboding silence. All to be replaced by another sound.

Metal.

Dropped on the concrete floor.

Bright lights illuminated the space and the harsh contrast meant people with good eyesight needed some time to adjust. It was like the sun had come to visit.

He was blind. So much so, that his senses could only focus on the sizzling sound of the lights coming to life.

Someone with a much faster time of adjustment restrained him. Only one ankle for the time being. She locked the shackle and took off his sock.

'Oh, that's nice,' she said. 'I like a man who takes care of his feet,' she rested her burning hot palm on the top of his foot.

'He does look like he takes good care of his body,' the leader agreed. 'I wonder why a loser like you do it.'

She was in front of him and had a finger underneath his chin.

'I am a biology student. The benefits of good fitness and nutrition are known to me. Keeping my body in good shape helps me be optimal in my studies.'

'Jesus fucking H, my dude,' she shook her head. 'Milly!' Which was probably Stacy judging by her tone. 'Did you clean his glasses?' If there was an answer he didn't hear it. The buzz of the light was still too overwhelming. 'Ok, give them here.'

In this dingy, disgusting, yet massive, place quite the sight resided. The walls were moldy and had the color of vomit. The harsh white light didn't add much comfort. It ruined the better parts since most of the women now had zombie skin tones. Everyone carried an unhealthy tint on their epidermis thanks to the lamps.

But it was still a spectacular view.

The leader still stood inches away from him. Practically naked sans the bra and sandals.

'Back problems, need help with the girls,' she said as she pushed her tits up in his face.

'So you must know how I feel,' he moved his hips a bit to turn attention to his privates.

'You want your boxers?' A devious grin split her face.

He didn't answer and her wink told him she approved. She tapped gently the head of his penis with her long fingernail sending surprising shivers of enjoyment and dread up his spine and down his legs. His whole body felt waves of electricity and hoped it didn't show too much.

'Let's see if we would need this,' she held a metal ring in her hand.

Another wink and she joined the rest. Her marvelous ass filled up his vision when she turned around.

She found her place on a throne made of cardboard and fluffy animals. Some decay had claimed the edges of the toys but nobody seemed to mind.

She sat down, spread eagle. Her shaved vulva opened and what in normal light would be delicious pink now was bathing in those ill colors giving her vaginal opening greenish highlights.

She was surrounded by mostly naked women. Some brave enough to have put their naked asses right on the filthy ground. Dresses, shoes, tiaras, and bracelets were scattered around making the scene look like a tornado had passed through a gathering of Olympians and carried all their possessions into Buffalo Bill's much larger underground lair.

An intertwined orgy of limbs stared him down. Standing, or kneeling, or on all fours. Rows of women melting into one another. Hands reaching out underneath a pair of perky buttocks to touch someone else's clit. Other opening asses and massaging cute little holes. Dirty soles pressed against fake tits. Tongues locked into a wet battle.

And her on the side. Stacy. Still dressed in her white robe. Her thighs closely pressed together and her teeth unable to release her lower lip. Probably forced not to do anything about herself, her misery caught his attention.

The leader must have realized it.

'What is your name, boy!' Her demanding voice turned his interest back on her. She was furiously pummeling her vulva and smacking the ass of an unfortunate woman right next to her. The cheeks of her victim were so red they managed to overthrow the sickly light.

'James John, ma'am.'

'Ma'am?' She laughed and licked her middle finger. She placed it between the buttocks of the spanked woman and the fingertip started gently to circle the asshole before deciding the taint would be the final destination, ignoring on purpose the full lips with light fuzz beneath. 'Do you know what this is?' She asked.

She had to stop masturbating to present the ring once again.

'I can't say I do. Apologies.'

The leader stood up, her wide hips closing the gap between her legs returning her open pussy to a more innocent state.

'This has a very fun name. Jugum penis. It is an anti-masturbation device. Created way back in the 18th century. As you probably know, people were really backward back then. I mean, just several years before that they were still doing witch trials and witch hunts. But this,' she held the ring up and looked at James through it, 'was not such a bad idea.'

'Was it? We know how good for the health regular masturbation is. Sexual release, in general, is extremely important for not only the sexual organs but for mental health as well.'

'Is it now?' She let her tongue play across her lips as she was saying this.

'Yes,' eager to share knowledge.